


The True Tale

by orphan_account



Category: Cinderella 2015
Genre: F/M, Heartache, Love, Reveal, Tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:43:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was hard for her, he knew it would be. It was blatantly obvious that this beautiful girl had seen enough pain and struggle to last a lifetime, even if no one was quite sure how she was misused so cruelly. That's what he was hoping to find out. He just may have not known how hard it would be, for her or him. It was like the sun had stopped shining when her now constantly smiling face had suddenly become so downcast, and all he wanted was to see that smile again. He would do absolutely anything to ensure his sun kept on shining, but he couldn't sidestep this or prolong it another day. In a day she would be presented to the court and the people for the first time, and the engagement would become official. The (former) Captain had made that very clear to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The True Tale

This was hard for her, he knew it would be. It was blatantly obvious that this beautiful girl had seen enough pain and struggle to last a lifetime, even if no one was quite sure how she was misused so cruelly. That's what he was hoping to find out. He just may have not known how hard it would be, for her or him. It was like the sun had stopped shining when her now constantly smiling face had suddenly become so downcast, and all he wanted was to see that smile again. He would do absolutely anything to ensure his sun kept on shining, but he couldn't sidestep this or prolong it another day. In a day she would be presented to the court and the people for the first time, and the engagement would become official. The (former) Captain had made that very clear to him. 

The Royal Guard had searched the house attic to cellar, insistent on finding any records of what had transpired within the house. What they found did not have them looking to Lady Tremaine in a complimentary light. The search was conducted as soon as the ladies had removed their belongings from the premises, and the recently announced Grand Duke had even suggested Ella look over the items they claimed to be their personal effects, but the young lady herself had quickly dismissed the thought. It would only take more time and effort, and complicate things to a degree. Neither Kit nor her wanted to be thinking of the three women when they had the rest of their lives ahead of them. 

The Masters Study, which had quite clearly been unused for a great length of time, was being pulled apart when Kit had taken leave of the remaining minor duties he had one day to check up on things (though that time he would rather have spent with Ella). That room was a honeypot of old records, anything from household finances to ancient family trees, neatly filed away in the once orderly room. It would seem whoever had last seen to it had been one particularly fond of ordering things, the books lining the shelved walls displayed in alphabetical order of the title and the many different inks and pens stowed in compartments in the writing desk were laid out according to colour and size. The Captain (he really ought to cease referring to him as that) had read through the files and had put together his own brisk view on solid facts. 

The previously disposed Grand Duke had been held under interrogation for an extended period of time, largely to delve into the gravity of his treachery and to ensure there were no other 'alliances' arranged. After a few weeks, however, all Kit wanted was to know he would never come to intefere with state policy again, and execution being to harsh a repercussion he exiled the traitor.They still knew little for sure, however, the former Grand Duke's testimonies limited to the deal he had made with Lady Tremaine, but what they did know was valuable. 

One, Lady Tremaine was the widow of a Francis Tremaine of the Mercers Guild, the father of her two daughters, and had married Ella's father near three years past. Two, Ella's father had been a notable merchant in the land and neighbouring countries, amassing a substantial wealth in his later years of tactful sales. Three, aforementioned father was deceased. The record keeping had taken an abrupt halt almost a year ago to the day, when he had - presumably - went on one of his numerous journeys (all of which beforehand had been well documented expeditions) and never returned. The latest dated staff roster listed a few names of the servants that had once tended the place, but it would take countless days to track them all down, even weeks, and so Kit, to gain a clearer picture in his head, had broached the subject with his dearly intended.

Some rooms in the Royal Apartments were shared between the Kings Chambers and the Queens (it made sense to give Ella the Queens Chambers for the time being, but hopefully she would not feel the need to make use of them after the Wedding). Due to this, Ella and Kit were allowed to dine and relax with each other in neutral rooms that protected propriety, with the ignored option of spending time in private, and after the evening meal the pair had made a habit of passing the earlier night hours in one such room. The servants, thankfully, had a mind to stay out of the set of rooms all together, the only necessary guards remaining on the right side of closed doors, and so the pair had found time to spend quality time in each others company. So, after a lull in the conversation, Kit had asked Ella to tell him her story - the whole story - from the very beginning. That was when her smile faded and her eyes softened so much they looked wounded. 

He felt terrible as soon as the words incurred her reaction, felt awkward and useless sitting lamely on the edge of the divan*, looking to his feet. 

"Ella, if you don't want me to ask again I never will, I just-"

"It's okay." She murmured quietly to his left and he felt a warm, delicate hand encompass his own, and he turned to see a weak smile on her face again. "I should have done this sooner." He wanted to object, tell her that he didn't want to force her into trust, that he could wait and if she wasn't ever ready than there would be no confidence at all. Ella, however, had already begun with a pained sigh that he could tell was fighting back emotion. "When I was ten, I can't even remember what made her so sick, my mother passed away." Kit held her hand tighter, watching her face return to it's fixed position straight ahead. "One night she was singing me asleep, the next.." She trailed off as suppressed tears pricked at her eyes. "She made me promise, on her deathbed, to always have courage and be kind, and I have tried my best as the years have passed." Tears rolled down her cheeks now and without thinking Kit drew her into his arms, burying his face in her hair and wrapping his determined arms about her lithe frame as she curled further into him.

Kit wasn't convinced it was a good idea to comment, it was Ella opening her precious and caring heart out, after all, but he still did and she was eternally grateful for knowing exactly what yo say subconsciously. 

"When I was eleven, my mother became very ill too." He told her, breathing in deeper breaths. "The Grand Duke had insisted on their being an heir and a spare to ensure the safety of the line, and as I was always a clumsy child it seemed like a sensible precaution." Another reason why he had resented his fathers most trusted advisor from youth. "I had two sisters who were both stillborn before my mother miscarried twins and her health began to decline. They said she was no longer happy, that because of that they could do nothing. For three years I insisted she would live, and just as she looked to be gaining strength she left this world." She had pulled her head back from resting on his shoulder to assess his face, large brown eyes melting with sympathy and love. He brushed his lips over her forehead in response, feeling their chests heave in time. 

"I still remember my promise." Ella eventually said, sounding less lost and more affirmative than ever. "I knew she had never left us, not really, but my father... My father became very serious and very focused on organisation. I don't think he was ever quite the same. I suppose he was looking for someone who could make him feel light hearted again, when he told me he intended to marry again, seeking my blessing. How could I refuse, even if I wished to?" She smiled to herself, eyes still glistening and shook her head slightly. "I wanted to think they brought my father happiness, my stepmother and stepsisters. I don't really mind for the girls, now." Ella reflected, taking solace in the constance and warmth her betrothed's arms offered. "They were just misguided, but they're mother had always been something else. I will never understand what made her dislike me so, but she did and from the very beginning, I believe." 

That made Kit's blood churn. The injustice of it, the cruelty and malice that she had endured and was still strong enough to forgive. Wanting love and peace was not a weakness, and though he may have known that deep down, this courageous young woman had confirmed it. 

"My father was a merchant, and would often travel. Following his marriage, however, he had come to spend more time on the road than at home." The words came easier now, and Ella was more accepting of their honesty as she delivered them in a sombre tone. "And one time he failed to return at all. To avoid unnecessary financial loses my stepmother proceeded to dismiss the household and I, the fool that I was, pretended to myself that we might all help to keep the house intact. We, as you might imagine, was in truth just me." Kit admired her even more for the lack of resentment that she conveyed, how it was only her stating a fact, without any anger or ill words to add in. "I was moved away upstairs to the attic, initially temporarily, and isolated from any company that dared call on us. They took most of my things-" her mind flittered to the small box she kept beneath the lose floorboard in her attic room with all her treasures "save a few items I was able to hide away. Of course, the attic became too cold with winter coming, and I took to just sleeping by the kitchen hearth." She shuddered slightly, knowing what memories she would be needed to pull from the back of her mind.

"You don't need to tell me anything, Ella." Kit promised, and any other time Ella would have giggled at the curious feeling of his lips moving against her ear in speech was. 

"Kit, I want you to know how much you mean to me. I can't tell you that unless you know why." She was right in that. "One night cinders from the fire must have gotten onto my face, and when my stepsisters saw me they found it very amusing. Drisella thought herself very witty for coming up with all kinds of names for me, Cinder Wench and Dirty Ella-" Kit drew her closer to him as her voice threatened to break. "Cinderella was her favourite, I think."

"Never mind what they call you, it's not your fault." Kit assured her, pressing another kiss to the top of her head and allowing himself to be lost, for less than a second, in the scent of her hair, recollecting the day they met in the forest. 

"I was so hurt and so overwhelmed I consider perhaps what they said was true of me, that all I was ever to be was a rag covered girl made half of ashes, I took the horse and, well, had the scare of my life from a hunted stag." Even through her tears she smiled brightly, and so did Kit. "Your smile, your agreement to not hurt him... It reminded me that there was just enough kindness in this world to make it a good place." 

"I will always be here for you, Ella." Kit reminded her. "I will always love you." She knew that, but she would never get tired of hearing it, just as Kit would never tire of saying it. 

"I know." 

 

 

*by that I mean couch or sofa or something, not an elongated ottoman, it's just the words seemed so informal....

**Author's Note:**

> *by that I mean couch or sofa or something, not an elongated ottoman, it's just the words seemed so informal....


End file.
